Birthday Bummer

It's not exactly commonplace to throw a big party for an 85th birthday, but for some reason we did it for my dad last year. Turns out it would be his last one.

Here on Earth anyway.

When you look at the picture, he doesn't look too bad. Certainly doesn't look like he was just months away from death's door. But looks can be deceiving.

I had to remind my mom and myself of this today when I called her to see how she was handling Dad's birthday without him. "I wonder what he'd be like if he'd lived to be 86. I wonder if he'd be even more frail -- or better," she said in a voice shaking just enough I could tell she was crying.

"It was his time, Mom," I said. Those pictures from last year's party just happened to catch a snapshot in time where Dad was in a good place. He had that month or two in there where he was free from shingles pain and other bodily aches. He felt better and, therefore, looked better.

That didn't last long, though.

Today, we just have to believe he is enjoying coffee, cake and a polka or two with the other angels we are missing from our lives. In my mind I am believing that, but my heart was still aching today. It was more difficult, more emotional, than I expected. Those waterworks I accidentally turned on a few weeks ago sprung a leak or two.

Our family was together in spirit, though, holding each other in our thoughts and prayers. A handful even got together in person at Mom's to honor the day with a birthday dinner and cake.

And made a stop at the grave site, where someone signed my "R" to a Packer sign without my permission!

Sorry, Dad. It may be your birthday, but you are not getting that "switch" from me. Now that you are older and wiser, I am sure you know better.

I do send a great big hug, though. You can have that in any color you want, birthday boy!